


Chapter Five

by broadwayblainey



Series: Last Christmas [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 17:30:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17288354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broadwayblainey/pseuds/broadwayblainey
Summary: Sorry, this one is a few days late, I got kind of busy for a few days.This is the final chapter of this part of the series, I hope you enjoy it, I've enjoyed writing it.Happy New Year!!





	Chapter Five

The sun was so hot and bright but so perfect. Not burning, just perfect. He had been so cold before, he thought. But, now he couldn't remember; how could he have ever been cold when there was warmth like this? The ground was soft under him. And so comfortable. What was he lying on? He thought it was grass at first, or maybe sand, but he wasn't so convinced now. It was too nice, too cozy. There was someone talking nearby, their voice low and soothing, but Kurt wasn't sure what they were saying, he just nestled back into the ground below him and...  
... And there was something poking his side.  
"Hey, Kurt. It's Christmas."  
Kurt sat up abruptly and his head span. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed one with his fingers.  
"Why is it so cold?" all feelings of his dream disappeared and the sunny warmth was replaced by the dark chill of his bedroom.  
"Because I took all the blankets, sorry," a blanket was pulled up to his shoulder and a kiss was pressed to his cheek. "Merry Christmas."  
"What? Oh," he turned his head and kissed Blaine back. "Sorry. Merry Christmas."  
It was then he noticed that it wasn't just dark in his room; outside the sun was barely rising and the street looked pretty grey.  
"Wait. What time is it?"  
"Umm."  
"Blaine."  
"A little after six."  
"A little after - Blaine, what the hell is wrong with you?"  
"Wait," Blaine said and stopped him from pulling the blankets over his head as he fell back into his pillows. His boyfriend turned the lamp on the nightstand on and Kurt groaned. "I have a surprise for you."  
"Unless it's Patrick Dempsey hiding in my closet, I think maybe it can wait for another hour or two, sweetheart."  
"No, they can't."  
"They?" he squinted an eye open and raised an eyebrow. At least, he thought he did; he was so tired.  
"They. Now, sit up," Kurt did as he was told and frowned. "Now say 'hello.'"  
He hadn't realized that Blaine was hiding Kurt's iPad under his pajama shirt, but he was, apparently. It was pulled out and Kurt had to squint against the brightness of the screen. When his eyes adjusted he forgave Blaine for waking him instantly. Their London buddies - Aoife, AJ, and Brian - were wearing various Christmas hats, and he was fairly sure Brian had fairy lights in his hair. All were smiling with glasses of something fizzy in their hands.  
"Kurt!" they all wailed when they saw him. "Happy Christmas!"  
"Happy Christmas," he was suddenly not tired at all but his voice sounded rough with sleep. "What time is it there?"  
"Just gone one; we waited up to speak to you," Aoife said and Kurt was overwhelmed with his feelings for his lovely friends. And for his lovely boyfriends but, honestly, when wasn't he overwhelmed with feelings for him?  
"Wait. Your hair," Kurt noticed, her long red locks were cropped into a blunt bob. She looked amazing, obviously. How couldn't she? She flicked her hair back and posed with her arms raised above her head.  
"Hot, right?" Brian asked. "I did it."  
"You did not," Kurt said.  
"How dare you?" Brian had his best offended expression on his face.  
"He actually did," AJ said. "You should have seen it; they got halfway through and were both in tears, it was amazing. He's doing me later," AJ scratched their fingers through their surprisingly bowl cut. That was really the only Kurt could describe it, and it somehow suited them perfectly.  
"I did Blaine, too," Brian was close to the camera, trying to look at Blaine's hair. That, Kurt thought, explained the scalping.  
"Yeah, but Kurt's done that, too," AJ said with a smirk. They shared a stupid three sided high five.  
"You told them?" Kurt asked Blaine who looked guilty.  
"They pulled it out of me, I'm sorry," actually he didn't look guilty at all, he looked pretty pleased with himself.  
"Mum and Dad are fighting, it really is Christmas," Brian drawled.  
"I'm learning I'll have to pay for all your therapy for Christmas," Kurt said.  
"Who needs a therapist when you can do this?" Brian tipped his head back and downed whatever was in his glass.  
"That seems healthy," Blaine laughed. "Didn't you all have work today?"  
"Yes," they all said at once.   
"Aren't you tired?"   
"Yes," they all repeated with delirious kinds of laughs. "We spend too much time together, we need to move out," Brian added.  
"Hey, speaking of! Blaine! You're leaving us," Aoife looked genuinely angry. Then she smiled. "You little so and so."  
"I am."  
"You know, he didn't technically live with you," Kurt pointed out.  
"Eh, potato, potato," Aoife sighed with a wave of her hand.  
"More like 'potato, vodka,' right? Chin chin," Brian downed something, vodka Kurt assumed, from another glass that he hadn't even noticed before.  
"You have to come back for one last hoorah, both of you," AJ said, completely ignoring their friend.  
"Definitely," Blaine agreed. "I have plenty of time before I need to be in New York."  
"And I was already planning on visiting early February anyway; I miss the smog," Kurt added.  
"Promise?" Brian asked.  
"I promise."  
"We'll let you get some sleep," Blaine said.  
"Okay. Bye, loves!" Brian shouted while blowing them loud kisses. The others called their goodbyes just as loudly.  
"Thanks for staying up to call me."  
"Anytime, see you in -"   
The phone beeped, cutting Aoife off, and they were gone.  
"Your idea?" Kurt asked.  
"Maybe."  
"My Christmas present?"  
"One of them."  
"One of them?"  
"Don't get your hopes up, you know I'm broke as hell; my presence here is my main present," he knocked his nose up against Kurt's and smiled. "Sorry."  
"I don't even need to open anything else, it's my favorite one. You don't need to be sorry."  
"Speaking of," Blaine was up and out of the bed before Kurt's sleep-addled mind could catch up. With a chuckle, he watched his boyfriend dance to keep himself warm as he searched for a sweater in the small pile of clothes he had brought with him. When he gave up with a frustrated sigh he pulled a black knit pullover from Kurt's wardrobe, which, of course, completely dwarfed him. He was still bouncing when he turned to Kurt.  
"The heating comes on automatically at seven, which I'm guessing it's not yet," Kurt said as he watched him. "We could just stay in bed a while."   
"No time, dear; presents," Blaine said in an entirely adult manner.   
Blaine grabbed his hand and dragged him wildly out of the room. They laughed loudly as they ran and louder when Kurt gracelessly tripped down the stairs, only barely managing to keep himself upright. When they got to the living room Blaine turned the tree lights on and Kurt curled up on the couch.   
They exchanged gifts happily for a while, stopping intermittently to tell stories; Kurt spoke of Christmases spent under the tree with his parents and Blaine swore that his brother once accidentally set their tree on fire. They unwrapped presents from Burt and Carole and Kurt ended up with a stack of books, that he picked and helped order, and Blaine with a new set of much needed dark gray gloves and scarf. He gave Blaine a navy coat and laughed as he opened a Winnie the Pooh onesie.  
"For your morning stretches," he explained.  
"Oh, yes. You're so very funny, but when I start wearing this in public we will see who has the last laugh," he pecked Kurt's mouth and handed him another present. "Last one."  
"For me?" he asked as Blaine pulled on his onesie. The box was small and neatly wrapped in silver paper. It seemed Blaine used a whole roll of tape to wrap his presents but he eventually got to the burgundy velvet box underneath. He opened it and found a ring.  
"I'm not proposing," Blaine rushed to assure him.  
But Kurt knew that. It wasn't an engagement ring. It was pretty, though, and silver. One with a greyish stone in the middle. The one they had seen in the window a few days before. The one just like his mother's.  
"You shouldn't have done this, it was expensive," Kurt murmured, unsure of what else to say, and finding himself unable to find any other words anyway. Blaine shook his head.  
"Worth it," he said. "If it makes you think of your Mom."  
Kurt slid the ring onto his finger. It was a little big but that didn't matter. He looked down at his hand and could see his mother so clearly in his mind that, had he not known better, he would have sworn she was right in front of him. Something sweet bloomed inside of him and he tried to blame it on Christmas spirit but he knew better; it was Blaine's doing.  
"Thank you," he said quietly. He couldn't say much else.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
When Kurt returned from getting dressed he found Blaine passed out, face down and onesie-clad on the couch. He got real close to his ear and whispered, "Hey, Blaine. It's Christmas."  
"Mmm, tired," Blaine mumbled. He rolled onto his back and Kurt perched next to him.  
"Dad and Carole will be home soon," he told Blaine, who nodded and blinked his eyes open. He gripped Kurt's hand and smiled. "What?"  
"Handsome," was all he said before closing his eyes again. Kurt grinned and gave Blaine a minute to wake up; something Blaine would never afford Kurt, but he could let that go.  
"I was thinking about something."  
"Hmm?"  
"Maybe we shouldn't tell them about us just yet," he wasn't sure why he felt nervous to request this from Blaine but he moved past it. Blaine thought about it for a second before nodding slowly.  
"Okay."  
"Okay?" he asked. Blaine nodded again. "You're sure?"  
"It's fine, Kurt. I told you; as slow as you need."  
"I wasn't sure you actually meant that," he admitted with a sigh of a laugh.  
"Well, I did. We'll tell them whenever you want. Or we won't, and they can just think we're really close friends. We'll take New York by storm and one day we'll adopt a Yorkie or something, you know, like the gays who came before us, and they'll still be none the wiser."  
"You're an idiot, Blaine Anderson."  
"You're still handsome, Kurt Hummel," he beamed at him and the hood of his onesie fell over his face. "Can I sleep now?"  
"Okay," he patted Blaine's hand and added, "As long as you're fine with Dad and Carole seeing you in this," he pulled at the soft material covering Blaine's arm.  
Blaine was up and out of the room before Kurt could finish his sentence.  
Kurt wondered out after him in search of food or booze or something he could binge on and have it be acceptable because there are no rules at Christmas. It was then he heard the familiar sound of the wagon doors closing. He made his way to the front door and when he got there he saw his stepmother's face through the window.  
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," she shouted through the door. Kurt let her in and was promptly kissed on both cheeks as she passed him, her arms full. "My Mom made us cake," she called over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen.  
"Oh, great."  
"Don't eat it," his Dad grunted as he squeezed through the door with the rest of their bags. "Just don't eat it."  
"Noted," he smiled as he watched his Dad drop the bags in pile with a thud.   
"Merry Christmas, kid."  
"Merry Christmas," he pulled his Dad into a tight hug. In his ear, he whispered, "Blaine and I are a thing; I'm freaking out a little."  
"I kind of guessed after our talk. It's a good thing," his Dad said just as quietly. They pulled apart but Burt kept him under his arm as they walked together. "It's a good thing, right?"  
"Yeah," he murmured. "It's kind of scary."  
"Yeah, the things worth doing usually are, in my experience," he clapped Kurt on the back and smiled. "Why are we whispering?"  
"I'm not meant to tell anyone."  
"Why?"  
"I don't know; it's a rule I made for some reason. I think I wanted you to know first, I don't know."  
"Well, I'm happy for you."  
"Me too."  
They were both grinning when they found Carole boiling water in the kitchen. It was funny how the house changed as soon as they were home; his stepmother's stuff covered most of the countertops and Burt immediately turned his radio on loud, some horrible Christmas song filling the room quite depressingly. Kurt ushered Carole into one of the chairs and finished making the drinks, three coffees for them and a tea for Blaine.  
"Where's Blaine?"  
"He's gelling his hair or something, he'll be down soon," Kurt said while he poured his Dad and Carole coffee. "I have news."   
"More news?" Burt asked.  
"Yes," he sat between them at the table. "It's good news," he assured them quickly when he noticed their slightly concerned expressions. "In the new year, I'm going to start working on moving out. Again."  
"You know you don't have to, not until you're ready," Carole said.  
"I know. I know that. I just think I need to be doing ... Something. I just need to stop feeling a little like I'm just treading water. I'm not sure how to do that yet, but I think New York will be a good place to look."  
"New York?" they asked in perfect unison.  
"New York."  
Kurt watched them both watch him. Their faces would be unreadable to people who didn't know them, but he knew them better than most so he could see the wheels turning behind their eyes. Burt nodded slowly, knowingly it almost seemed.   
"That ... makes sense," Burt said, he dragged out the words as if he was explaining something completely obvious.  
"It does?"  
"Yeah, you in New York makes perfect sense. Why wouldn't it? Plus, you hate it here."  
"I don't hate it here," he scoffed. They both just looked at him again. "Fine. I hate it here."  
"I think it's a great idea, honey," Carole said. "You'll fit right in."  
"You think so?"  
"With all the fabulous artsy people? Of course."  
"Or are you just happy you have a reason to visit New York?" his Dad asked her.  
"That's just a bonus," Carole laughed. Then she stopped suddenly. "Wait. You said 'more news.' What am I missing?"  
His father stared at him, and he stared at his father. They both smiled and looked in any direction that wasn't at Carole.   
"Should I tell her?"  
"Na, I don't think she'd be interested."  
"No, me neither," Kurt stood up and walked over to pick up the coffee pot.  
"Tell me."  
"It's totally not even a big deal," Burt teased. Kurt leaned his elbow on his Dad's shoulder and shook his head. Carole honestly looked like she could swing for them both.  
"Blaine and I are -"  
"Oh, my God. Really?"  
"- together."  
Carole pulled him into a tight embrace, catching Kurt unaware so coffee spilled over the floor. He had learned a long time ago that fighting a Carole hug was not a fight he could ever hope to win. Not that he really, truly wanted to stop her, not deep down. She rubbed his back excitedly and let out a happy noise that was caught between a cry and a squeal.  
"That's wonderful," she was still holding him and Kurt hooked his chin over her shoulder.  
"Not too soon?"  
"Not if you're ready," she let go of him and gripped his biceps, holding him at arm's length. "You're ready?"  
"Yeah, I'm ready."  
"Ready for what?" Blaine appeared in the doorway, no longer in his onesie but a tight red polo and dark blue jeans. Evidentally he actually had been gelling his hair but not as he usually had, his beautiful hair, for now, allowed to curl. Kurt had that dumb stomach flipping, heart pounding, awful, lovely cliche feeling when he saw him. Carole let a tiny squeal whistle out between her smiling lips and her grip on his arms began to edge towards painful. His Dad was chuckling over his coffee mug. Blaine looked between the three of them, confused for a second. Then, it seemed, not so confused. "So, you told them."  
"I'm sorry."  
"It was your rule, Kurt," he sat in the remaining empty chair. There was an awkward silence for a moment as they sipped their drinks until Blaine politely asked, "How were your parents?" and not so subtly changed the subject.  
"Good."  
"Old," Burt added.  
"Yeah, old. But still good, I think they were glad we were there. You don't want to talk about this?" she asked, gesturing between the two of them with her spoon.  
"Carole," Kurt and his Dad said at the same time.  
"It's fine, I won't embarrass you," she sipped her coffee with a knowing grin. She winked at Blaine and said, "Merry Christmas, honey."  
"And to you both," Blaine chirped. He narrowed his eyes slightly at her, then grinned. "Nice earrings," he added with a wink of his own.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
To Kurt, it seemed that time started moving faster as he got older; the day just slipped away from him, and the evening came too quickly. When he flopped heavily onto the couch, into his spot next to Blaine, his father was already in his chair, the bottom half of his face hidden by his book. Carole was flicking through the channels trying to find a movie. His boyfriend was looking even more handsome than Kurt could ever recall him looking - that could have been because of the wine Kurt had been drinking, though- and clearly sitting as close to Kurt as he thought respectable in front of his parents. That was crap, Kurt decided, and linked their hands together, resting them on Blaine's thigh. The movie started and they were all quiet for once. Apart from a few comments about how cute Carole found Hugh Grant because, yes, they were watching Love Actually again. Blaine quietly admitted that he agreed and Kurt was only mildly disgusted by this.   
Kurt made the mental note that his boyfriend's questionable crush was the worst thing that had happened to him this Christmas. He decided he would happily take that.  
He also decided that he was right earlier; he was ready. He was ready to let himself be happy, to let himself find out who he is now. No matter how much he tried, he wouldn't be the person he was before all the horrible things that had happened to him happened. Stitching his pieces back together and being exactly the same as he was would be impossible. There was no going back to the child he was when he had his mother, no going back to the young man who had never been hurt. That was okay, he didn't have to be them. The things that made him different now made him better at handling the worst of what life could give him. The stitches made him stronger, more resilient. Even when they made him weak and fall apart and scream until he wept, he kept going. When he thought about all his bad days, he got through every single one, and he could look back at the many other versions of himself and feel proud that from them he became the man he is right now. Pride, after everything, was more than allowed.  
And he could do it alone, but he didn't have to.  
"You okay?" Blaine whispered just loud enough for Kurt to hear.  
He looked around at his father, reading his new book; at this angel of a stepmother, wine glass in her hand, head nodding as she tried to stay awake. Then at his boyfriend with his warm smile now pressed against his shoulder. Everything was right here, Kurt realized with a lazy grin and a pleasant, sweet feeling that sank right down to his bones. Everything he needed was right here. How lucky he was.  
"I am now."


End file.
